Don't be afraid.

I feel certain he is Arthur Northrup Denton." Seizing Ruth's hand, she led her, unresisting, to meet a tail, broad-shouldered, smooth-faced man, whose piercing gray eyes constantly scanned the various persons scattered along the platform.

His brown hair was touched with gray at the temples, and his keen, resolute face bespoke unfaltering purpose and power.
With Grace to think was to act.

She took an impulsive step toward the tall stranger, confronting him with, "I am Grace Harlowe.

I am sure you are Mr.Denton." "Yes, I am Arthur Denton, and----" "This is your daughter, Ruth," declared Grace hurriedly, pushing Ruth gently forward.